


orbiting the bright centre of the universe

by yunmin



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Battle of Yavin, Families of Choice, M/M, Minor Leia Organa/Han Solo, Role Swap, Scoundrel!Wedge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-14
Updated: 2017-11-14
Packaged: 2019-02-02 14:17:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12728196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yunmin/pseuds/yunmin
Summary: After Wedge Antilles’s parents are killed when he is fourteen, Booster Terrik takes the boy under his wing. When Hal Horn sends Booster to Kessel, Wedge inherits Booster’s business. And his debts.This somehow puts him on Tatooine at just the right moment for an old Jedi Knight and a farmboy to walk into a Cantina.





	orbiting the bright centre of the universe

**Author's Note:**

  * For [JumpingJill](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JumpingJill/gifts).



> Sometime ago, @harusamemosuke/JumpingJill and I were discussing how similar Han and Wedge are, and how they are different, and how similar they could be had their lives led a different way. And from there it was relatively simple to extrapolate an AU in which Wedge is the scoundrel, and Han is the X-Wing pilot.
> 
> Assumes two different divergent points; Wedge’s parents being killed earlier, as in the summary above, and that Chewbacca successfully harranged Han into joining the Rebellion a lot sooner. I may write Han’s side to all this some day. I may also do Empire. Perhaps.

Wedge hates Tatooine.

But this is where his last run ended, and where he let his last co-pilot go, and the Mos Eisley cantina is where he ends up drowning his sorrows – or intending too, before realising that the barkeep can’t mix a decent drink to save his life. Instead, Wedge situates himself in a dark booth and watches the crowd, hoping to find someone who is a halfway decent specimen of sentient life to accompany him for a run or two. His ship runs better with a crew of two. Travelling alone in space these days is hardly safe, as well.

But Wedge is a bad smuggler, one who still tries to retain a modicum of ethics, and that means he won’t take a lot of jobs, and most people don’t want to work for him. If it wasn’t for the fact that his family has debts, and he’s the only one who can pay them, he’d have gotten out of this business a long time ago.

He’s nursing his drink – it’s just water – when his eyes are drawn to a commotion. A young boy and an old man at the bar.

Wait.

The old man has a lightsaber. It lights up clear as day in the cantina, and some poor patron loses an arm.

Wedge stands up. He watches the fight, with cautious eyes. There are few left in the galaxy with that sort of weapon, who know how to wield it that way. They are either working for the Empire, traitors to everything their Order once stood for… or they are fugitives.

“Blasted Kenobi,” Wedge hears one of the patrons mutter. “Finally crawls out of the dessert, and this is what we get.”

There’s a man named Kenobi on the Rebel Alliance emergency lists. A man who any friend to the Rebel Alliance is supposed to offer aid, and transportation, if requested. Or at least, that was the situation the last time Wedge managed to touch base with them. His main duties mean he can’t do much to help out there, though he’s managed to run a shipment or two for them in his time.

He keeps looking at them, Kenobi and his companion. The boy is young, dressed in the garb of a Tatooine farmboy, and looks completely out of place in the cantina. Wedge isn’t quite aware of how much he’s staring until the boy’s eyes lock with his.

And then the Jedi and the farmboy are making their way over to him. “We are seeking passage to Alderaan,” Kenobi says. “And the Force tells me you may have the answers.”

Wedge furrows his brow. Open talk of that kind is dangerous; but then, so is wielding a lightsaber in a public place. The time has clearly passed for subtlety. “Take a seat.” Wedge gestures at the empty booth. He slides into his side of the thing. “Lets discuss terms.”

He asks a fee for his services, and the Jedi seems prepared enough to offer it. Wedge has no real intention of taking the money; the Alliance will cover his bills, when he returns Obi-Wan Kenobi to them, but he can’t be seen to work for free in Mos Eisley, not when he bears a six-figure debt to the Black Sun that he’s inherited from Booster. The boy sputters when Wedge names his price, going indignant, sharp and charmingly naive. Wedge has to bite back a smile. He likes this kid. He’s got fire. “I’m not such a bad pilot myself!” the boy insists.

Wedge files that away. Maybe he won’t need to find a co-pilot for this run. Maybe he can just press the boy into service. He’s heard tales of Tatooine bush pilots, of the reckless stunts they pull out in the wastes, kids with more time than sense. But the boy’s concern is pushed aside. Wedge and Kenobi agree on a price. “I’m ready to leave when you are,” Wedge says, because he wants them both off this planet, before the Empire gets wind of what happened here. “Docking bay ninety four.”

“Ninety four. We’ll see you there.” Kenobi’s smile is wry.

 

Well. This could be interesting.

.

Wedge has more experience sneaking into Imperial bases than he perhaps wishes to admit to Luke Skywalker.

He still thinks this is a horrendously awful idea.

The boy is besotted with whoever this girl is who’s sent a message to ask Obi-Wan Kenobi to help, and unfortunately, Wedge is just taken in enough by his bright blue eyes to follow the boy.

Which is how he ends up in a shoot out with a number of Imperial stormtroopers, on an imperial base larger than Wedge has ever seen before. He throws himself low to the ground, firing his blaster three times with decent accuracy – he’s learnt how to make his way on the ground, even though he’s far more at home on a starship – before getting clear enough to make a mad dash down the corridor, down to cell 2187, where Luke is supposed to be staging a rescue.

“Luke?” Wedge calls, as dodges a shot of blasterfire.

“Here!” Luke responds. He’s lost his helmet. Wedge has too. Besides him is a woman in a white dress, short and wearing an expression of total exasperation.

“Captain Antilles,” she says, when she catches sight of Wedge. “You are the last person I expected to come to my rescue.”

“I’m fairly certain that’s not true, Princess, I’m just not that high on the list.” Wedge lines his blaster up and gets off a shot. This one misses. “Luke, you could have told me we were rescuing Leia Organa.”

Luke is looking between them. He blinks a couple of times. “Do you two know each other?” he asks.

Leia lets out an almighty sigh. “You boys have a plan for getting out of here?” Luke and Wedge both shake their heads. Leia grabs Luke’s blaster, fires a couple of shots in the general direction of the stormtroopers, and then at a panel on one of the walls. It sparks free. “Into the garbage chute, flyboys.”

.

Wedge leans against the frame that separates the cockpit from the general quarters on his ship, watching as Leia Organa gently drapes herself round a despondent Luke to comfort him. The boy is grieving. More than just the loss of Ben, who he can only have known for days, Wedge saw them interact as he took them to Alderaan.

But he’s relying on Leia to comfort him, and Leia just lost her entire planet, and suffered god only knows what torture at the hands of the Imperials and Darth Vader.

Wedge stays back though. He doesn’t want to interfere with either of their processes. He’s no stranger to grief himself. He was fourteen when his parents were murdered, and was lucky to have Booster Terrik pick up the pieces, to mold the shattered angry shell of a boy into a good man. He manages to slip past them, to the crew quarters, unnoticed, to go and retrieve some things from a bag stored below his bunk.

He returns, and presents them to Leia Organa. “A change of clothes. If you…” He trails off. Her dress is white, an Alderaanian symbol of purity and hope, and maybe she wants to keep it, as a reminder. But Wedge wants to give her an alternative. “They’re my sister’s things. Might be a little big on you, but I hope they’ll be okay. If you want them.”

Leia takes the offered pile. “Thank you Wedge,” she replies, in that serene voice of hers. Wedge points her in the direction of the refresher and the second crew room she can use, and she leaves quietly.

Wedge sinks down into the seat she has just vacated, the one beside Luke Skywalker. Skywalker. Kenobi’s old apprentice, a hero of the Republic, so they say. This boy has become heir to that legacy, and that’s a weight Wedge would not wish on anyone. “You alright?” Wedge asks, after a couple of minutes silence.

“She’s…” Luke starts on a completely different tack to the one Wedge thought he would take. “Not what I expected.”

“She has a habit of surprising you.”

“How do you know her?” Luke asks.

Wedge shrugs. There’s no point in keeping it a secret. “I’ve run a few things for the Rebellion in my time. Ran her about, once. That’s about all there is to it.”

“So, you’re not…” Luke’s hands dance over the table-top, chronically uncertain.

Wedge is left to guess at his meaning. “What, you think there’s something between us?” Luke nods mutely, and Wedge just laughs. “Honestly, you think the princess and a guy like me?” Wedge shakes his head. “No. No. Not in a million years. She’s not my type.” Now, Luke, however… “I think—” Wedge wonders whether he should crush Luke’s hopes, nip this thing in the bud. The Princess’s concern had been of care, not love. “I think she has someone, anyway. Maybe, maybe not. You’d have to ask her. But no. Nothing going on there.”

Luke nods again. Silence falls, and Wedge wonders if he should move, leave Luke to whatever it is he’s feeling. And then there’s a solid weight against his shoulder, unruly blonde hair tickling at his neck. Luke. “I’m glad,” he mutters, his words half muffled in Wedge’s shirt. “I’m glad that she’s got someone. She’s lost so much.”

Luke is crying. His tears are hot and wet, and Wedge brings an arm up around the boy’s back. “Yeah,” Wedge mutters. He’s starting to suspect that Luke’s entire world has fallen out from underneath him too. Wedge has picked up two lonely souls. “And hey, we’ve got her back. We can do that. No one here is alone Luke.” The boy continues to sob, and Wedge just folds him into his arms, prepared to hold him for as long as it takes.

.

“Are you sure you can’t stay?”

Wedge feels guilty. He really does. But if he could join the Rebellion, he’d have already done so by now. “I’m sorry, Princess Organa, but I have to be going.” He shuffles on his feet.

“Just a few more days. We could use another pilot with your skills, Captain Antilles.”

Wedge shakes his head. “I have to go. I have to. The people who I owe, they get cagey when they don’t hear from me. Think I’m making more money than I’m paying them back. And when that happens, the people closest to me get hurt. I can’t have that. I’m sorry Leia.”

Leia reaches up to touch his arm, catching him as he moves to go. “The Alliance could protect you, Wedge, if you joined us. We could help you.”

“But you couldn’t protect my sister.” Wedge thrusts his hands into his pockets, shaking Leia off. “Mirax has no interest in being part of your Rebellion. All she wants is a life for herself. I’m going to give it to her, Leia, if it’s the last think I do.”

Leia looks glum, but she forces her mouth into a semblance of a smile. “If you are certain. You must do what you think is right. I hope the Alliance’s fee will relieve some of your debts.” Wedge refused the official reward that they almost give him, for Princess Leia’s safe return and for escorting the Death Star plans. He takes the Alliance’s standard emergency transit fee, which will cover him. He may need the credits, but he won’t take them from people who are trying to make the galaxy a better place. “And you should talk to Luke before you leave. He’s grown quite attached to you.”

Leia’s tone is coy. Wedge’s cheeks may flush slightly. He likes Luke – who could meet him and not, Wedge wants to ask – but he cannot stay, even for him. But Leia is right. He does owe Luke a goodbye.

The boy is now kitted out in the Rebellion’s eye-searing orange flightsuit. Wedge has heard the veterans call them ‘come-find-me’ suits, as they make extra-vehicular pilots easy to spot. Which is certainly true. There are a lot of pilots milling about, faces that Wedge has seen before, on another Rebel base, more people who will be disappointed he hasn’t joined them. He spots Leia heading for a tall man dressed in the same bright orange, standing beside a Wookiee. Wedge has seen him before too, and had watched Leia throw herself into his arms when he’d brought her back to Yavin.

Never mind that. Luke’s bright blue eyes are staring up at him. There’s a hint of betrayal in them. “You’re just taking the money and going?”

Wedge squirms under Luke’s intense gaze. “Luke, it’s more complicated than that.”

“I’m not just some naive kid, you can tell me!”

Luke’s intensity is charming, in its own way. It makes Wedge want to spend the time getting under his skin, learning every inch of him. But he can’t. He can’t do that. “Oh Luke.” Wedge sighs. “It’s not that I think you can’t handle it. I know you can. But it is complicated, and it would take a long time to explain, and I wish I could take the time to tell you every detail.”

Luke slackens his once-tense frame, deflating under the weight of Wedge’s confession. “Oh,” he says. His eyes are wide as he looks at Wedge, a little startled.

“I need you to believe that I would stay if I could,” Wedge says. “But I can’t.” He leans in to place a soft kiss to Luke’s cheek. “May the Force be with you, Luke. I think you’re going to need it.”

.

Wedge flies a short hyperspace journey away from the Yavin system, coming out at an uninhabited system to plot a new course and cover his tracks. As he waits for his nav computer to plot him a route that won’t raise eyebrows, he fires up his holonet system. Unsurprisingly, there are a number of messages waiting for him. He skips the vaguely threatening ones from his Black Sun contacts, and skips to Mirax’s latest.

He hits play and her image emerges. They look enough alike that people frequently mistook them for brother and sister when they were younger, despite the fact that back then they weren’t. Her eyes don’t meet Wedge’s; she must have sent this whilst getting distracted by something else. “Wedge, where the hell have you got to?” she demands. “There’s all sorts of rumours dashing about. And what with whatever has happened to Alderaan; I’m worried okay?” There’s some chaos in the back of the recording; Mirax’s head turns and the program doesn’t fully catch what’s going on. “Just. Call me okay, whenever you get this.”

Wedge sighs. Mirax has better things to do than be concerned about him. But still. He better call her, before she drops whatever it is she is doing to chase after him. He hits the call button, half-hoping that she doesn’t pick up so he can just leave a message with her.

No such luck. After the static of the call connecting over all those light years, Mirax picks up almost immediately. “Wedge,” she gasps in delight as she sees his face come up. “Thank force you are alright.”

“I’m _fine_ , Myra,” Wedge tells her. She looks like she’s been in a few scrapes since last he saw her, five weeks ago, when they’d been plotting their next moves and how exactly they were going to get out from the burden that’s hanging over them. He’d told her not to worry about it. He’s starting to think that she didn’t follow that advice.

“Yeah, well, there’s an Imperial warrant out for your arrest with a sky-high number of credits attached as a reward.” The bottom of his stomach drops out. Fuck. That can’t be. He hadn’t been that obvious, had he? But he hadn’t been subtle, either, he guesses, too devout on doing his duty to worry about things like keeping his identity hidden. “Wedge. You’re in trouble. What in the galaxy did you do?”

“Transported a boy and his mentor and some droids half-way across the galaxy, saved a Princess.” Wedge tries to shrug it off. He doesn’t regret what he did, for all it may have doomed him.

“The Rebellion.” Mirax sighs. “You’re too good, Wedge. It’s going to get you killed.” She taps her fingers on the console of her ship, pondering something.

“I’m sorry.” He ducks his head in shame. “I’m sorry Myra. I should have just stuck to what I was supposed to do, taken some less provocative job, got a bundle more credits.” It’s not in his nature, but he could have fought harder, left Kenobi and Skywalker in that cantina. They’d have found someone. But that would mean he’d never met Luke, and try as he might, Wedge can’t bring himself to regret that. “How am I gonna keep you safe now?”

“I don’t need you to keep me safe!” Mirax is as indignant as she’s ever been about the idea. “Force, Wedge, would you listen to yourself? You can’t go back out and keep doing what you are doing! This bounty, it’s larger than the debt we owe. They’ll turn you over to the Empire the first chance they get. I can look after myself. I’ve got a crew, we’ll find the jobs. Go back to the Rebellion,” she tells him. “I know you. You keep leaving them because you want to look out for me, and it’s sweet, but Wedge. Right now, you can do more good there than you ever have out there in the Galaxy. Whatever you actually did to get a bounty this large on your head, it’s not insignificant. They must need you. So go.”

The denial rises in his throat even as Wedge realises that Mirax is speaking good sense. It’s hard to choke out the words. “Yeah. Okay, Mirax.” He puts his head in his hands. “They do need me.” They need him right now, if they’re still intent on sending all they can against that superweapon, the thing that destroyed Alderaan. “By the gods though, Mirax, stay safe. I love you, little sis.”

“I love you too, big brother.” Mirax smiles at him. “May the Force be with you. Go and kick the Empire’s ass.”

Wedge disconnects the call, and hastily turns his ship round and heads back to the Yavin system.

He can only hope he isn’t too late.

.

Wedge comes back into realspace just on the edge of the Yavin system. His sensor board immediately lights up with the same thing he saw above Alderaan; the Empire’s feared Death Star.

There’s a couple of other contacts too. Small starfighters. Not as many as there should be; Wedge knows that the Rebellion planned to send two whole squadrons against this thing. There are only seven contacts left, and three are Imperial TIE fighters.

Wedge heads straight for them. He doesn’t know who’s left alive. He hopes that Luke is among their number. He weaves his ship about, hoping that no one has yet spotted him, whilst bringing up his weapons board. This is why he needs a co-pilot, but he doesn’t have one. He’ll just have to do the best he can.

The three surviving X-Wings are running along a trench along the surface of the Death Star. One of them is hit, and peels off, one of their engines smoking. Wedge recognises the jerking nature of their escape; they’d have simply crashed into the walls of the trench if they had stayed. He patches himself through to what he hopes is the Rebellion comm chatter.

“—Luke, I can’t hold them!” A voice that is unfamiliar to Wedge floats over the comms. He thinks it’s from the rear ship. That means Luke is in the lead. Both of them are being pursued. Wedge checks whether he’s within weapons range. He’s not. Another thirty seconds, and he’ll be able to shoot these guys off Luke and his friend.

The second X-Wing is hit, and bursts into flames. Wedge curses. If only he’d gotten here sooner.

Twenty seconds.

No – the Death Star is moving. Enough to throw Wedge’s timing off. He’s gaining on them, but not quickly enough.

Faster. He needs to go faster. He puts every piece of discretionary power his ship has into his engines. It gives him a modicum more speed.

“He’s turned off his targeting computer—” Wedge mutes the comm. He needs to focus. He lines one of the TIE fighters up in his sight, ready for when he comes into weapons range. A shot hits Luke’s astromech, but he continues unfazed, hurtling down the trench.

“C’mon,” Wedge mutters to himself. His weapons lock goes green, and a sound chirps, and Wedge pulls the trigger. One of the TIE fighters goes up in flames. The other two appear shocked and confused. Wedge keeps on his course; one that will become a collision course if he holds it long enough.

One of the TIEs panics. It veers violently into the walls of the tench, a panicking pilot trying to avoid the incoming ship. He clips the other TIE, the oddly shaped one, sending it veering off into space. Both of them are no longer threats. Wedge breathes a sigh of relief, and pulls up. He flips his comm back on. “You’re in the clear Luke, go get them.”

Luke makes the shot, and then pulls up out the trench. There’s no immediate explosion. Wedge thinks they must have gone where they should. He follows Luke in the direction of Yavin IV, along with the two other surviving ships. They’ll need to be clear when this thing blows up.

When it does, the shockwave is intense enough to rock Wedge’s ship. Wedge finally feels the tension go out of his body. He did it. He helped beat that thing.

And the galaxy is a slightly safer place.

.

Wedge stumbles down the front ramp of his ship, heading vaguely in the direction Luke’s X-Wing had landed. Luke has already emerged, bright-eyed in victory, swinging Leia around in delight. The gathering crowd parts for Wedge as he makes his way through it.

“Good shot, Luke.” Wedge sticks his hand out to shake Luke’s, but Leia just laughs straight in his face and shoves Luke at him, and suddenly Wedge has an armful of Luke. Luke’s arms are around him and Luke is laughing in jubilation, and Wedge gets caught up in the joy of it, clutching Luke everywhere his fingers can touch.

“I knew you’d come back!” Luke declares, hands grasping at the sleeve of Wedge’s shirt, steadying himself as a counterpoint to Wedge, the two of them only still upright because of their connection. Wedge can’t help but smile back down at him, this eager bright boy. And then Luke’s hands are rising from their place on Wedge’s arms to grasp his face, and Wedge finds himself being drawn into a kiss.

For a moment, he’s too shocked to even realise it, but Luke is persistent. Which gives Wedge the chance to catch up with his brain and kiss the damn boy back, tugging Luke in by the waist to bring him even closer, and then, because this is a celebration and Wedge is feeling a little high and dizzy and not quite entirely himself, he dips Luke in an overwraught romantic gesture.

It’s the din of the celebratory whoops and cheers that brings Wedge back to himself. He puts Luke back upright, and then draws away. He knows he’s probably got stars in his eyes. Luke looks exactly the same, a flush high on his cheeks, a smile tugging at his lips.

“Alright, break it up lovebirds!” Han Solo, as insufferable as always, shouts. Wedge flicks a glance in his direction and finds that he’s standing besides Leia, an arm around her shoulders. He must have been in that other X-Wing, Wedge realises, because Leia’s arms are around Han’s waist and she looks like she’s not going to let Han go any time soon. Wedge makes a rude Corellian gesture in his direction, and kisses Luke again, pushing him up against the side of his X-Wing.

Leia laughs, clear and bright, and Luke kisses him back, and Wedge knows he’s found his place in the world.


End file.
